


Last But Not Least – A Losing Battle

by darkdropout



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: M/M, PWP with plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-21
Updated: 2011-06-21
Packaged: 2017-11-10 04:34:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/462250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkdropout/pseuds/darkdropout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s a losing battle with his heart, but Nino’s always been stubborn, so he fights it anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last But Not Least – A Losing Battle

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as PWP, but then it found a plot, a kind of complicated one. Sorry for ruining the porn.

 

This maybe wasn’t the greatest idea, Nino thinks – a little belated now that he’s lying here on his back, Ohno above him with his body taut at some inexplicable, impossible angle that reminds Nino not for the first time since they’ve started this that Ohno is a _talented dancer_.

There’s sweat dripping down Nino’s face, into his eyes, and their bodies are sticking, unsticking, together in time to Ohno’s infallible rhythm, but despite all this it’s indescribably romantic.

Ohno’s eyes are darker than Nino’s ever seen them, even when he’s imagined this – and he’s imagined this too many times in ten years to let himself keep count –because just maybe all of this has been a long time coming.

Nino’s fingers slip against Ohno’s skin and he wants to close his eyes and just _feel_ but he can’t stop looking at Ohno’s face, at Ohno’s dark eyes and Ohno’s mouth, a small, concentrated half-smile as they move together.

It shouldn’t be like this, because they’re just fooling around, aren’t they? But at some point, somewhere between Nino’s door and Nino’s bed, or maybe before that – somewhere between 2004 and 2005 – this stopped being a joke.

Only Nino can’t afford to do this – to fall in love with Ohno and live with it, day in and day out, for the rest of his life. He’s spent too long trying not to and the prospect of all his hard work going to waste is considerably terrifying.

Ohno leans in, touches his face, ghosts fingers over the line of his jaw, over his lips and Nino whimpers against his fingertips.

It’s a losing battle with his heart, but Nino’s always been stubborn, so he fights it anyway.

Then Ohno laughs.

“Stop fighting, Nino,” he says and Nino’s so offended, so completely offended that Ohno can see through him that easily that he’s about to push him off and tell him all of this is done.

But Ohno shifts his weight and _oh fucking christ he’s a good dancer_. Nino can no longer seem to form words.

Not so for Ohno.

“Nino,” he sing-songs, clearly, unabashedly pleased with himself, and Nino is gritting his teeth because he’s not sure he’s going to last much longer and here on the edge he’s realizing just how bad of an idea this was.

This is not what he planned when he’d slammed Ohno against the wall, hours ago, bit his lips and shoved a hand down his pants.

Up to now, over the years, Nino had pushed pass every boundary, pressed every button, crossed every line, until there had only been one left.

Nino likes to think he has some self-control, but – and Ohno’s reminding him of this, pressing hot kisses to the inside of his thigh – he has his weaknesses, too, and there was only so long until he really _had to know_ if Ohno would let him cross that last one too.

And Ohno had of course, easily – happily even, relieved maybe, kissing Nino back and pulling Nino closer and promising things with his tongue and teeth and _eyes_ that Nino hadn’t, not in a million frustratingly restless nights, ever dreamed of.

Nino should have known then, known that here, now, Ohno would be the one pushing boundaries, ones that Nino has so painstakingly constructed around his heart. After so much time Nino had been sure that nothing could break through except –

Nino’s going to come and Ohno’s going to make him and somehow Nino knows that when this happens all the years of pretending that he’s crossing lines and pressing buttons and that they’re only _just fooling around_ will climax with him, melt away in the afterglow and expose him as the infuriatingly hopeless, love-sick little boy he is – has always been – when it comes to Ohno.

Nino can’t let that happen. He has his pride after all, and though it’s a bit wounded by his current position, he’ll conserve what’s left of it.

Then Ohno reaches between them, _touches him_ , and all semblance of dignity is lost.

“Stop,” Nino pleads, hands flexing desperately against Ohno’s skin, trying to push him away.

Ohno smiles down at him, gentle and too sweet, and thrusts hard.

Nino falls in love.

 

 


End file.
